


Life is Like a Hurricane Here on The Island

by ohnonotthemagain



Category: ARK: Survival Evolved, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Amnesia, Dinosaurs, Gen, Stranded, Video Game Mechanics, Wilderness Survival, dewey plays minecraft and you cant convince me otherwise, everyone is confused, more characters to be added ;), rating might change but idk yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 07:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnonotthemagain/pseuds/ohnonotthemagain
Summary: The last thing Huey could remember was going to bed last night, in his triple bunk bed back in the manor. Which was concerning, because as he squinted in the harsh sunlight and felt the itch of sand in his feathers, he realized he was on a beach.The beach was littered with driftwood, boulders, and small palm trees. A few feet away was a forest that stretched as far as Huey could see. And out in the distance, he saw… beacons. Massive metallic pillars floating in the sky. One red, one blue, and the closest one green. And a few smaller ones of varying colors scattered around.He wracked his brain for what kind of adventure led him to this place, what treasure they were looking for, what ancient culture built obelisks to use in some kind of sport or ritual, but everything came up blank.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Life is Like a Hurricane Here on The Island

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i'm surprised i got this done before the finale aired.

Huey woke up, his head throbbing. He pried his eyes open, the bright light of the sun making him wince. He shielded his eyes and sat up, and tried to comprehend what was happening. But trying to think felt like slogging through mud.

The last thing he could remember was going to bed last night, in his triple bunk bed back in the manor. Which was concerning, because as he squinted in the harsh sunlight and felt the itch of sand in his feathers, he realized he was on a beach.

The beach was littered with driftwood, boulders, and small palm trees. A few feet away was a forest that stretched as far as Huey could see. And out in the distance, he saw… beacons. Massive metallic pillars floating in the sky. One red, one blue, and the closest one green. And a few smaller ones of varying colors scattered around.

He wracked his brain for what kind of adventure led him to this place, what treasure they were looking for, what ancient culture built obelisks to use in some kind of sport or ritual, but everything came up blank.

His brothers were on the shoreline, too, still asleep. Strangely, they weren't wearing their pajamas… instead, loose lengths of cloth were wrapped around their torsos, looking more like hastily-applied bandages than actual clothes. Huey looked down and realized the same had happened to him.

Suddenly struck with horror, Huey patted his head. No hat.

He whipped around, frantically looking for his hat, or at least the book he kept underneath it…

He felt the cover of a book, and eagerly picked it up.

It was, disappointingly, not his Junior Woodchuck Guide… the cover was completely blank, and the edges frayed, like it had been sitting in the sand for a while. When he looked inside, he found that all the pages were blank, too… except for the first page. It looked like a map of an island… The island they were on, maybe? Were they on an island? And to the northeast and southeast, two much smaller islands. Huey didn’t recognize any of them, and that fact made him feel a little nauseous.

Also tucked between the pages was a small stick, with its tip dipped with charcoal. Like a very primitive pencil. It seemed to be what was used to draw the map. Who drew it, Huey wondered…

He looked up from the strange book when he heard groaning. Dewey was getting up, holding his head and squinting up at the sun.

“Huey?” Dewey looked at him, looking just as confused as Huey felt. “Why are we on a weird beach in the middle of nowhere? And what happened to your clothes?”

He hesitated to admit he had no idea what happened to them, but then he noticed something to be distracted by. “What's that on your arm?”

Dewey blinked, confused yet again, then looked at it. On his left arm, a shiny black diamond was etched into his skin. He scratched at it, and it gave off a gentle teal glow in response.

“That's… new.” Surprisingly, it wasn't uncomfortable to have a black gem sunken into his arm. If Huey hadn't pointed it out, he probably wouldn't have noticed it. “You got one?”

“Yeah…” Huey tucked the book under his arm. “I bet Louie has one too.”

They heard Louie yawn. “I have a what..?”

Louie groggily opened his eyes, lifting up his arm to see the shiny gem in it. “Oh, no,” he groaned. He sat up, looking at the scene before him with exasperation. “Did no one even bother to wake me up before we went adventuring this time?”

“I don't think anyone woke  _ any _ of us up,” Huey said, standing up and brushing the sand out of his feathers. “Does anyone remember how we got here?”

Dewey closed his eyes and put his hand on his chin in his trademark  _ “I have no idea but I'm pretending to think about it” _ face.

Louie tried to put his hands in his pockets, but loose cloth doesn't come with pockets. He held in the urge to scream and crossed his arms instead. “Last thing I remember is going to bed.”

Huey sighed. “Yeah, thought so-”

He paused partway into the word when he caught a glimpse of a bird walking across the sands behind Dewey and Louie.

It was a wild, non-talking bird, which on its own was nothing out of the ordinary. What  _ was _ out of the ordinary, however, was the kind of bird it was.

A dodo bird.

Which should have been impossible, because dodo birds had been extinct for decades.

Dewey and Louie could practically hear the gears turning in Huey's head, not to mention the confused and terrified look on his face, and turned around to see what the fuss was about.

Dewey tilted his head. “...a dodo bird?”

“I thought those went extinct.” Louie looked back at Huey, and none of them noticed how all three of them recognized the bird on sight. 

Huey walked closer to the walking enigma that was the dodo. “So did I…” He crouched down next to the small, flightless bird, who unsurprisingly didn't seem afraid of him. Didn't even turn it's curved neck to look up at him. It was astonishing, seeing an extinct species right in front of him. Granted, this wasn't the first time (that abomination of a cave-duck haunts Huey to this day), but it was still a walking, non-talking dodo bird!

Huey resisted the urge to pet the little guy. Wild animals were wild, after all. “Well, it's not impossible that dodos survived. They were only declared extinct a few decades ago.”

Louie smirked. “So it's a long-thought-dead species no one has seen in years?”

Huey nodded, jumping to his feet in excitement. He started making gestures with his hands, saying, “There aren't many remains of them, even in museums, and we really don't know anything about them. A live specimen could-”

“Be worth  _ so much money!”  _ Louie chimed in.

Huey glared at him, unimpressed but not unsurprised by what Louie's priorities were. “...I was going to say ‘be a revolutionary scientific discovery.’”

Louie shrugged. “Hey, you get your science and I get my money. It's a win-win.”

While they discussed the value of dodos, Dewey looked up at the sky and noticed two things. First, the giant floating beacons. Those things  _ screamed _ adventure. He would've mentioned them, said something about how they should totally go investigate, except the other thing he noticed was-

“OH MY GOD THAT'S A DINOSAUR.”

That got Huey and Louie's attention instantly. They followed Dewey's gaze up to the sky. Louie's jaw dropped.

“That's a pteranodon, actually,” Huey whispered in awe. “Not a dinosaur.”

Louie elbowed him. “Don't ruin the moment.”

The winged beast flew effortlessly through the air above the ducks. They noticed now that it wasn’t the only one around, and they could see a few more flying across the sky. One let out a cry and landed a few feet away from them, further down the beach.

Dewey “oooo”ed and ran over, and surprisingly the pteranodon didn't get spooked by him. It just stood there and watched him. “You are  _ so  _ cool!” Much cooler than some bird, anyway. 

The other two followed, albeit more slowly.

The pteranodon towered over the ducklings, their heads didn’t even reach its shoulders. Maybe if two of them stood on top of each other, they could reach the tip of its beautiful head crest. Huey knew that it was one of the largest flying creatures to ever live, and now he really understood just how big that was.

“Wait a minute,” he started, looking between the pteranodon and the dodo. “Pteranodons are extinct.”

“You said the same thing about dodos two seconds ago,” Dewey said.

“Actually,  _ I _ pointed that out.”

“Well, they only went ‘extinct’ a few decades ago. Pteranodons went extinct after the Cretaceous period, 65 million years ago!”

“So then we found an island where dinosaurs survived the meteor?” Dewey suggested. He gasped. “Wait, does that mean there are t-rexes here?!”

Huey’s eyes went wide. “Possibly? but I don’t think we should be excited about finding one.” Best case scenario, they were too small for a rex to bother with. Worst case scenario, they’d make a nice appetizer.

Louie sighed. “Island full of hungry dinosaurs. Great.” He furrowed his brows as a thought came to him. “Why are we the only ones here?”

Huey and Dewey looked at him, but stayed silent, so he continued, “I mean, Uncle Scrooge wouldn’t send us out here by ourselves, would he? You’d think he’d want to help us get, like, a t-rex tooth to display in his garage or something.”

“Huh.” Dewey looked around him, at the dinosaur-thing, the sky-beacons and the gem implanted into his arm. So many mysteries to be solved and so much to be explored, and yet the world-renowned solver of mysteries and rewriter of history wasn’t there with them. “Yeah, why are we alone here? Uncle Scrooge is usually the one who hears about places like this in the first place… And Mom would totally want to see living dinosaurs!”

Louie kicked at the sand and kept his eyes fixed on it. “You don’t think we…  _ crashed,  _ do you?”

The idea of crashing on the island was distressing. But it did explain a few things… The rough landing could have given them amnesia thanks to a concussion or two, and it would explain why everyone else was… gone.

After a few tense moments of silence, Huey shook his head. “These beaches are messy with lots of driftwood and stones, but no scrap metal, or anything that could come from a crashed plane or boat. And aside from the headaches, we’re not injured. I don’t think this was a crash.” 

Louie sighed. He wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or annoyed. “Well, that was my best idea. Back to square one.”

Dewey wasn’t nearly as bothered by this as his brothers were. Not openly, anyway. “Hey, that just means we get to figure it out ourselves!” He took a few steps towards the woods. “That big green obelisk sounds like a good place to start, right?”

Louie pinched the bridge of his beak. “Did you miss the part where this is an island full of dinosaurs? Because this sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Oh, come on! We have big obelisks floating in the sky, a mysterious island, and rocks in our arms! This is like, the biggest mystery ever! Don’t you want to solve it? Just a little?”

Louie shrugged. “Usually that results in horror and emotional trauma. I’d rather figure out how to get out of this place.” He looked over at Huey, expecting him to have some ideas.

“I mean, exploring this island isn’t the worst idea,” Huey said, and Louie looked at him like he was insane. “ _ But,  _ I think we should at least write an SOS on the beach first. That way if anyone flies over this island they’ll know we’re here.”

“Write?” Louie asked. “With what?”

“We can lay some of these rocks in the sand, or maybe some wood,” Huey explained. “We’ll need a lot, since it’ll need to be big…”

“Picking up rocks,” Louie said with a nod. “Okay. I can do that.” It sounded extremely boring, but sticking to a nice, open beach sounded a lot better than the woods, filled with shadows and places for predators to hide.

Dewey rocked on his feet. “And we’ll explore after we get all the wood?”

“Yes,” Huey said.

Dewey nodded with the kind of confidence that terrifies, and he turned around and punched a tree. It stung a little, but he kept going. His brothers looked on in confusion and horror. 

“Why…” Huey's head was in his hands. “Why is that your first instinct?”

“Come on, Huey,” he said as he kept punching, “Have you never played Minecraft before?”

Louie rolled his eyes and decided to leave before he lost braincells. He walked closer to the ocean, letting the waves drown out the conversation, and started picking up the dull, gray rocks scattered in the sand.

Huey barely noticed him leave. “Dewey. Minecraft isn't real life. You can't just punch trees.”

“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?”

Somehow, Dewey wasn’t wrong. He was actually making dents. “I think you're focusing too much on whether you  _ can _ and not whether you  _ should. _ You know punching solid wood  _ hurts, _ right?”

Dewey glanced down at his slightly-bloodied knuckles. “I'll be fine.”

As he landed another punch, the tree creaked. And it fell.

Huey's jaw dropped. A  _ tree, _ knocked over with fists. No tools or anything. Just sheer manpower. He didn't know if he should feel impressed or sick.

Dewey cheered. “MINECRAFT  _ IS _ REAL LIFE, HUEY!”

Sick. Definitely sick.

“That… How did…” He shook his head in disbelief. “That should not have worked.”

Dewey smiled smugly as he picked up the wood and thatch. “But it did.”

Huey sighed, feeling immeasurable pain from the defying of physics and logic he just witnessed. “I know.”

“So now we know, I  _ can _ and  _ should  _ punch trees.”

“Sure. Yeah. Punch trees.” He scrunched his eyes shut, feeling incredibly tired despite just waking up. Still, if this was an efficient way to cut down trees…

While his brothers argued, Louie was gathering, or rather, inspecting rocks. All of the stones on the beach were too small to use for the sign, and weren’t very shiny either, so he had no reason, either practical or personal, to collect them. There were bigger rocks, but it would be hard to break them into smaller pieces.

Then he caught a glimpse of Dewey punching down a tree, and an idea struck him. Louie picked up a stone, twice as long as his hand but only half as wide, and gave a fallen log and quick  _ thwap. _ He drew in a sharp breath. Dewey was astonishingly good at pretending things didn’t hurt. But when he hit it, a chunk of it came free, along with some thinner material that looked a lot like straw.

In a few swift motions that Louie barely kept up with, he picked them up, used the thatch to tie them all together, and then he had made it:

A pickaxe.

Louie stood there, dumbfounded, turning the pickaxe over in his hands. He made this. Without any help from anyone, or even anyone asking him to. He felt a proud swell in his chest at that, but it would be nice if he had idea idea how he did it. He just… did.

He shook his head. The terrifying prospect of knowledge wasn’t what he needed to worry about right now. Rocks. He needed more rocks. So he went up to a boulder and swung. Orange stones fell out of it, along with the duller grays. Louie smirked, seeing his work pay off.

And he swung again.

And again.

And again.

God, did Scrooge really used spend all his time doing this? Louie shivered at that thought. Once they got off of this island, he would never sit through another Klondike story again.

Dewey gasped. “Huey! Look! Louie's doing manual labor!”

Louie dug his pickaxe into the rock with more force than he meant to. “SHUT UP.”

Huey opted out of the teasing, though he did find it funny, instead focusing on the pickaxe Louie was using. “Did you make that yourself, Louie?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. That's actually pretty impressive. I didn't know you knew how to make a pickaxe.”

“Well,” Louie stopped to wipe some sweat from his brow, “I didn't know either.”

“What?”

“I just thought about how useful a pickaxe would be, picked this stuff up, and then my hands did the rest.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. “So if you're going to ask me to show you how… not going to happen.”

Dewey “hmm”ed and picked up some of the wood he and Huey had gathered, as well as some of Louie’s rocks, and something clicked in him, too. He knew exactly how to make his own pickaxe, and make it he did. “Weird.” was his only comment on the matter.

Huey was quite possibly more confused right now than at any other point today. And given everything that had happened today, that was saying something. He learned how to make tools in the Junior Woodchucks, so really he should be the only one who knew how to do any of this. How did the other two learn?

Instead of making a pickaxe for himself right away, he used some wood, stone and flint to make an axe. He handed it to Dewey, and his face was a mix of tiredness and genuine worry as he did so. “Please never punch a tree ever again. You’re going to break your fingers.”

Dewey rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. He crafted one for Huey in return without even thinking about it.

Louie sighed. At this point he was realizing questioning any of this was a futile effort. “Maybe before we got amnesia we all got addicted to survival guides.”

Huey and Dewey didn't answer his obvious sarcasm. For all they knew, that was exactly what happened.

With stone and wood acquired, the triplets made their marks in the sand. The long wooden planks made good letters, and the rocks made for good punctuation between the letters.

They spotted a few more creatures during their work. Little reptilians they somehow knew to call lystrosauruses wandered across the beach, paying no mind to the ducks and their construction. And there were dodos everywhere. Huey, Dewey and Louie didn't wander far from where they woke up, but there were six or seven dodos mindlessly walking across the sands. Out on the ocean there were large waterfowl, looking a bit like a pelican fused with a swan. They were too far away to get a good look at, but yet again some strange part of them knew exactly what they were: pelagornises.

“How do you all know their names?” Huey didn't mention this part out loud, but he doubted even he could recognize a pelagornis when they were a dozen feet away.

Louie would've shrugged, but he was carrying a pile of rocks and didn't want to drop any. “Same way I know how to build a pickaxe, I guess.”

Dewey placed down the log he'd been carrying, forming the end of the first  _ S _ . “Honestly, I just look at them and know what they are. Just their names though. I still have no idea what a lie-stro-saurus eats or anything.”

“Lystrosaurus.” Evidently, their knowledge didn’t tell them how to pronounce things, either. “And they were herbivores. Plant-eaters.” He paused his axe-swinging, deep in thought. “Weird. They lived even earlier than the pteranodons. Back in the Triassic period… They went extinct before pteras existed.”

“Huey, stop questioning it!” Louie yelled back. “It won't get you anywhere.”

Huey tried to stop, he really did, but the thoughts wouldn't leave him alone. He didn't say any of them so he wouldn't annoy his brothers, but his mind was silently racing. How did all of these dinosaurs, mammal-like reptiles, actual reptiles, and birds end up all in the same place? Why did they have all this uncanny knowledge about tools and animals, but not the obelisks, or the implants?  _ How did they end up here at all? _

Somewhere along the line they discovered another strange ability. The gems in their arms could…  _ store  _ things. How it did it, where the objects went, they couldn’t figure out. But what they did figure out was that, if they wanted to, they could pick something up, and after a small flash of cyan light, the gem would whisk it away. And if they needed them, all they had to do was will it back into their hands.

It was useful for carrying large amounts of stone and wood without tiring out their arms. But somehow, they could still feel all the things they “carried.” Everything still had weight to it, and whenever they hid something away, it was like their bodies became a little heavier. So in the end, they could only carry about as much as they could fit in their arms anyway. (Dewey found this out the hard way when tried to carry so much he practically sank into the sand and couldn’t get off of his knees until he threw some of his stuff on the ground.)

It brought up more questions. More questions that went infuriatingly unanswered, because no matter how hard they tried, no one could remember anything.

After nearly half an hour of chopping down trees (with axes this time), dragging logs across the beach, and building up piles of stones, a large “S.O.S.” was spelled out, ready for flying passerby to read, and then to hopefully come down for a rescue.

By the end of it, they were all exhausted, sweaty, and, most worryingly, thirsty. All the water around them was salt-filled seawater, and if they had learned anything from their Uncle Donald in the past eleven years, it was that you should absolutely  _ not _ drink saltwater.

“How about,” Louie said, sitting down on part of the  _ O, _ “We solve the water crisis after we just… lay down?”

Huey and Dewey were quick to agree, resting on the logs to keep off of the sands, which suddenly felt much hotter than when their day started.

In their rush to let themselves relax, they missed the low growls and the licking of drooling lips.

They missed the hungry pairs of eyes drawing nearer.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic isn't realistic to the game at all because if it was they would've been eaten at least three times by now :/
> 
> anyway, thank y'all for reading my hyper-specific crossover fic! i have no idea when the next chapter will be done, but i promise i'll try to get it up soon!
> 
> casual reminder that comments are very cool and extremely motivating :)


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